


A Word in His Defense

by LooLooTaroo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Homosexuality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:36:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LooLooTaroo/pseuds/LooLooTaroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just....just give him a moment to explain...it's not like...he likes him, or anything....</p><p>      Ron X Draco...some sex, some excuses....some general fun</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Word in His Defense

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my..."OMGGGGGG Harry Potter Throw-back" collection....self titled, in case you were wondering lol. Point is! If this is the first out of that fine smattering you've read, than know these are older works from my Harry Potter days...which were....some serious fandom days. I was a huge, huge, Harry Pothead, and this work comes from one of my fangirl pairings, Ron and Draco!
> 
> It's a short little piece...with a bit of nookie of course, hope you enjoy it as much as I did finding it!!!

 

 

   

 

 

                The thing is, I really, really do hate the bugger. I mean seriously, he’s probably the worst person in the entire world. He’s selfish, he’s cruel, he’s an utterly average wizard, and he’s a complete coward.….but at the moment he’s got an unbelievably hot mouth latched onto the head of my penis, and his hand is stroking the rest of my wet member.

I can’t make any dignified sound back, just a slurp as I take in as much as I can of his. I’ve always heard about ‘deep-throating,’ heard it tossed around, certainly haven’t gotten the hang of it. My hands squeeze his pale, firm bottom and the suction is released around my own prick.

                “ _Oh_!” His breathy gasp, clearly an effort to keep our noise down and not test our luck with the silencing spell, blew right over cock. After regaining himself it’s in his mouth again, and he’s hungrily licking and sucking me. His hands slip down between my spread legs, one going to cup my sac the other rubbing firm circles around my anus.

                I shiver in embarrassment, wiggling awkwardly with the pleasure. There’s nothing proud about sex, I don’t care what anyone says. When you’ve got a dick in your mouth and a finger on your butthole it’s very, very hard, to be smug. I mean, Malfoy manages alright, but that son of a bitch is always full of himself. Always.

                I moan around my mouthful as fingernails trail down the back of my legs and then he pushes my knees to spread my legs wider part. Malfoy releases my prick and gently pulls himself free of me, turning around to clutch my wet cock.

                It isn’t the first time….no our first time was a needy, confusing romp that left us both with our trousers wadded ‘round our ankles and staring at one another in horror. It wasn’t glamorous, we didn’t even kiss. We really, really can’t stand each other. So why do it, right? He’s beautiful, -certainly in comparison to me in all my ginger glory-, but that’s not what it’s about, trust me. Looks are absolutely not enough to make up for the damage he’s caused. The guy is an unbelievable knob, and has had a vendetta against me and arguably everyone I love since we’ve met….It’s just that, if you know him, enough to _somehow_ get passed the phenomenally huge wall of complete shit he’s built around himself….you see that that damage is nothing compared to the havoc he wreaks on himself. Malfoy’s a real train-wreck, trust me on this, and together I suppose we found a commonality in our ineptitudes. On the emptiness we both needed filled.

                He was lonely, lonely in a way that only the least exceptional out of seven siblings can understand. I once looked in a very special mirror and saw myself shining, saw someone special….If he had looked, what would he see? Warm parents? Genuine friends? A life not over shadowed by darkness, betrayal, and cruelty?

                My nipples are the most sensitive part of my entire body, a fact he never fails to exploit with hot kisses and the occasional twist that makes me jump. I’m lying on him now, staring, flushed, at his equally pink face. His mouth is open, panting heavily as my hips rub in continuous, agonizing circles. His thumbs are pressed down hard on my nipples, _grinding_ against my chest as I continue rubbing our erections together. I crane my neck down to take one of his nipples in my mouth, shuddering when his hips jerk against mine in response. He slaps his hand down on my ass and I gasp. A second…a third….

                “Ugh!!” My hands fly to either side of him to grab a handful of blankets. I turn my face as the sound of another slap resounds. “Oh!!!”

                 His nostrils flare and the next strike is harder.

                 “Ah!” I jerk against him, and we both shudder. He is rock hard…I think he likes hurting me….but then that’s obvious, isn’t it?

                It’s no secret how we feel about each other, in fact I doubt anyone would believe it, the two of us shagging like animals. No one would really understand how two people who publicly loathe, insult, and even attack each other, could end up having it off like we do. Yeah, it’d be real hard to get anyone to understand, ‘specially my close mates….I mean, I’m not really sure how to explain it. Things just kinda….got to this point. Our first few encounters, as I mentioned, were not what one fancies as romantic. Quiet, quick, sordid affairs, and always in some secluded but neutral place where we would sneak away to. But as those hot and heavy stumbles started adding up, well, you can only call something a mistake so many times. When we could no longer write off our romps as isolated incidents, I suppose it escalated when we were faced with it. I mean really, for the first time faced with it, what we were, what we were doing.    

                “If we’re going to keep doing…this…sort of thing,” I’d just finished buckling my belt up, and I suppose you can’t help but be cautious when you’re buckling up your belt, “then we’re going to need a new plan. A better…system…a better place at least. We can’t keep it up. Middle of the night in the forest, shagging in the locker rooms, shower stalls? We’re asking for trouble.”

                 “Got somewhere better in mind, genius?”

                  I shrugged hand rubbing the back of my neck.

                  “We could go to our rooms…”

                  “Our what?” he sputtered, finishing the last button on his robe with a snap. “What are we, a goddamn couple? Look, just because we’ve got a trade-off going on doesn’t mean-”

                  “I’m not doing this anymore,” I said curtly, “not like this. No more public places. We can’t keep it up.”

                He watched me as I rose, then a dark scowl spread over his face.             

                “So? What happens now, huh?” He got closer to me, nose curled up in disdain. “I fall apart, tell you I can’t be without you and I just _have_ to have you and you’re just so _special!?_ Is that how you imagined this conversation? Awww….well guess what! I don’t need you. I don’t even _want_ you!” He spat. “You’re nothing to me! Nothing! You’re just another warm body and that’s the whole point! What Wealsey, never have a fuck-buddy before? Oh…no, I suppose you wouldn’t have.”

                 I said nothing, but he went on, sneering; as always covering his insecurities and his real feelings with arrogance and bravado.

                 “Because I have. Tons. Trust me, there are _plenty_ of others.” 

                  But for all his years of practice, he’s a terrible liar

                 “Alright then, find someone else. ‘cus I’m not pulling anymore leaves outta my crack.” I turned away, but he’d caught my elbow before I’d taken one step. I looked over my shoulder but saw only his pale blonde hair as it cascaded over his hung head. 

                 And so we’d ended up in his bed, he’d found some reason to shoo off his idiot goons and he’d snuck me inside….I’d borrowed a cloak….from a friend of mine, and found myself flat on my back with the most insufferable fucking prick I’d ever known squeezed between my naked thighs.

                 When we’d finished, and he’d rolled off me, I had wanted to leave…or….rather I should say I was ready to leave. I suppose no one wants to jump up immediately and struggle their clothes onto sweaty dirty skin, but I didn’t know what else to do really…and a shower was definitely in order. Wincing slightly, I propped myself up onto one elbow, then began feeling around for whatever articles of my clothing might have stayed on the mattress during our tumble. I knew the invisibility cloak was waiting under the bed, but Malfoy noticed my rustling and propped himself up too.

                 “You’d better wait,” he said. “Let me go check first.”

                 “What’d you mean? We’re alone in here.”

                 “Well, in here yes, but in the common room-”

                 “I’ve got the cloak.” I said simply, pulling my tank down over my chest, “hitting the showers then supper.”

                 “You ought to stay longer,” he pressed, “it’s too risky.”

                 “Malfoy,” I said, staring at him strangely, “what are you worried about? This is the _least_ risk we’ve ever taken.”

                 “I’ll go first. Stay here, and I’ll come back when the coast is clear.”

                 “Al-alright?” I watched him sit up and pull his clothes on. _He must know something I don’t_ , I thought, _to get out of bed and go check._

                 “Wait here,” he said again.

                 And so I waited. I heard him pad away and I laid back, enjoying for a moment the comfortable pillows. I waited, expecting any moment for the door to swing back open and Malfoy to shoo me away….but the time stretched on. A bit tired, and lost in thought, it was perhaps twenty minutes before I remembered I was on standby.

 _What on Earth….perhaps there’s something wrong after all…someone caught him in conversation, or he can’t sneak me out yet…._ I stared thoughtfully at the heavy fabric that hung around me following the design with my eyes. More time passed, and I was really quite bored with the fabric. Looking back, I must have been laying there over an hour….At last, just when I was rolling over to reach down and get Harry’s cloak, the door opened. I froze and did my best to silence my breathing as a precaution, but the curtains were soon drawn and there was that bloody prat Malfoy climbing back into bed.

                 At the sight of him, happy and well and looking not a bit concerned, I scowled in confusion.

                “What the hell-” I began, before my eyes fell on a little tray in his hands, covered in an extremely random assortment of food. There was a slight pause as I regarded it, then him.

                “You went….to the Great Hall?”

                He set the tray down, removing the last of his clothes and making himself more comfortable.

                “You went,” I repeated with clipped words, “to get your supper.”

                “No, I ate there of course, so as not to arouse suspicion. It’s not my dinner….it’s yours. I got several things, I don’t actually know what you eat…” He trailed off, and there was a long silence in which I stared incredulously at the platter and he stared coolly at me.

                “So,” I said, feeling my pulse start to quicken. “you thought you’d come back and feed your pet. How generous of you.”

                His lips were tight, and he stared at me with a face that, in my quickly rising anger, I couldn’t read. I took it as an admission of guilt.

                “Who do you think you are?” I hissed. “Who…who do you think _I_ am? I’m not one of your fucking sycophantic cling-ons or a goddamn toy that you can just-”

                My face was burning; turning that red that’s part anger and part embarrassment. I grabbed the blanket, and flung it viciously aside, swinging my legs off the bed and scrambling away.

                “No! Don’t….don’t…go….” The throaty whisper wasn’t an order, it was a plea. I paused, turning back to Malfoy. He’d reached out to put his hands on my shoulders and again he didn’t look at me, but this time I wouldn’t accept it. I waited until at last he brought his gaze from the mattress to me, and what I saw stopped me.

                 His face was desperate, his eyes when they finally met mine were sad, and questioning. Searching me, wanting me so badly to understand….and I did. He hadn’t left me alone in his bed because he wanted to mock me, or possess me…he’d left me there because he wanted me there. Had wanted me so much to stay, to be able to hold me again. His hands came to rest on my cheeks, still staring at me with his expressive if cautious gaze, trying to communicate what he was too broken and spoiled to say.

                We kissed, first awkwardly and quickly, then again we leaned in to each other for a long, slow slide of our tongues and our lips. Silently he leaned back, never breaking my gaze with his yearning eyes, and I let myself be gently tugged down with him. We laid there stiffly a while, before slow, tentative arms draped cautiously over my side, testing the water. When my hand reached up, and tensely squeezed one of them, they hurriedly encircled me, and, both of us blushing and vulnerable, laid there.

                And that’s how it happened; how we went from being a sweaty, gasping jerk off in the Quidditch pitch, to lovers. And that’s why I’m here now, on my bloody hands and knees, shuddering as his trembling hands settle on my pale, freckled back. His thighs are trembling, and his thrusts are speeding up. I bite my lip and dig my fingers into the sheets, whimpering quietly into my forearm as he lets out a rugged gasp, and one of his sweaty hands fly to my neck.

                “Nnhn!” His first grunt sounds almost surprised and I hear a heavy exhalation.

                Oh….Oh God…

“Nnnhn!! Nhhhhnnn!!” His ragged breathing is now gasps, and his hands have flown to my hips. Holding me like an animal he pulls me back to meet his desperate jabs, slamming our bodies together with each cry. I let out an undignified, choked groan, the gross kind you expect from old men about to drool. Oh….oh….he’s thrusting. So. _Hard_.   

“Aaaaah—ah!”

                With a final shove he comes, bent almost over me, chest heaving and strangled sounding moans escaping his lips with each wave of his orgasm.  It’s too much. The heat, his sounds, the hip bones grinding into my ass. I gasp desperately as my hand goes flying beneath my body to clutch my aching, weeping prick.

                “ _OH_ ,” my voice sounds foreign as I frantically stroke myself off, “ _oh, oh, oh…_ Oh ooooooooooh,” my voice trails off into a high pitch whine as the most amazing, swirling sensations take me. I plummet down into the depths of my climax, pumping into my slick hand and splattering across his lush bedspread.

 “Bloody hell Weasley….” He manages, plummeting to the mattress. We’re both on our backs, heaving and panting, shivering as the sweat cools.

          God I hate that guy.


End file.
